


Suddenly you're very near as I prefer you

by Azzandra



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cuddles, Incubus Sylvain, Loneliness, M/M, Magic, urban fantasy au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21574459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azzandra/pseuds/Azzandra
Summary: Felix makes some questionable decisions following a break-up. Like summoning an incubus. But not for the obvious reasons you'd summon an incubus.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 11
Kudos: 269





	Suddenly you're very near as I prefer you

It was after two weeks of laying awake at night that Felix finally cracked.

It wasn't just the lack of sleep, though doubtless that didn't help. It was the fact that he was living in the aftermath of his own bad decisions. Or maybe it was because he'd never had a serious break-up before (or, maybe, phrased more accurately, a break-up this serious).

But it was the dead of night, and it was raining. The orange streetlight coming through the window refracted on the wet glass and smeared across the ceiling, making the room seem unnaturally bright for such a late hour. Felix sat on the edge of his bed, toes chilled by the wooden floor, one leg still tangled in his mess of bedsheets. 

The room had been just like this when he moved in. It had been neat and stark, all his possessions sorted away out of sight. He had not felt any lack back then. It was the insidious _other_ inhabitant of his space who had come in and brought his touches to the room, one by one: a book on the bedside table, a scent of cologne in the morning, a particular habit for leaving the wardrobe door cracked open after he dressed. Now, all evidence of cohabitation stripped away, the wardrobe door neatly closed, the smell of him washed out of the pillowcases, Felix began to feel out the edge between where his self-concept as a loner failed him, and brutal, unforgiving loneliness held court instead.

He did not like it.

But he could do something about it.

His phone was charging on the desk, visible only by the white cord hanging over the edge and into the outlet. In a fit of pique, Felix had erased the number from his contacts, reasoning that it was the kind of thing exes did, but that did not erase the number from his call log. Felix would be hard-pressed to find any other number in his call log, in fact.

He would never choose that option, of course, because the concession to his pride would be unbearable. How could Felix, after destroying the best thing that had happened to him in a long while, admit that he had burned himself so terribly in the process?

But neither could he sit awake all night, heart thundering in his chest, inexplicably loud, tossing and turning because sleeping alone had become completely unfamiliar to him. He had work in the morning. And despite the overly permissive attitude his supervisor had towards Felix's tendency to snap at customers, in the past two weeks, Felix had begun to strain that goodwill.

He just needed to sleep. He needed a bit of rest, that was all.

But he had not rested properly since the last time he had had the reassuring weight and heat of another body against his, anchoring him to the bed and pressing sleep into his limbs. Alone, he felt ready to bolt; his heart beat in his chest like a bird beating its wings against a cage. Something too slow and sour to be panic settled in his throat: anxiety.

He needed to do something about it.

His phone was on the edge of the desk.

Felix rose and walked past it, towards the living room.

* * *

It was a practical solution to what Felix decided was a purely mechanical problem. If Felix needed someone to hold him so he could sleep, he would resolve the issue in a detached and adult manner.

And nobody would ever, ever, have to learn about his weakness. Nobody who mattered, anyway.

The only chalk he could find was red. He tried to free-hand the summoning circle, but despite this being something he could usually get perfect on the first try, this time it turned out too oval for his liking. He had to use string. He didn't dwell on superstitions about this being a bad omen.

He still had all his summoning textbooks, the ones he had to pay for through the nose because he'd stubbornly decided on a minor in demonic contractual law, but he scarcely needed to look at any of them as he filled in glyphs along the summoning circle. 

He took the call name for the demon from a specialized website, because no way he was putting more research into this, like one of those desperate needy creatures who breathlessly poured over tomes to find the perfect fit for their perversions. He'd just graduated college and gotten away from the greasy flocks of sexually promiscuous amateur summoners, he wasn't going to become one of them now. 

This was only for a night, it was fine. People summoned incubi all the time, it never turned out badly if you were careful enough.

Felix looked it over one last time, double-checking everything, but he didn't dwell on it too long. He would lose his sleep ( ~~he would lose his nerve~~ ) if he spent too much time thinking on it.

So he didn't think about it. He had a lot of practice not thinking about things lately. He flicked his fingers, and the magic caught and fizzed to life along the lines of the summoning circle. It lit up, bright white that seared into his retinas, and then faded into red again. 

Felix was crouched on the floor, still blinking away the spots from his eyes, when the magic hit its precipice point. Within the circle, reality briefly inverted, bent, twisted, and in its contortions, let something slip through as easily as passing through a curtain. The incubus was kneeling on the floor inside the circle, but Felix still had to tilt his head up to meet warm brown eyes, and the slow, languid smile that followed.

"Hey," the incubus greeted.

Felix rolled back on his heels a bit too hastily, and thumped against the floor on his rear in a graceless scramble.

"You're naked," Felix hissed, looking up to the ceiling. Why didn't he know they came through naked? Should he have known this?

The incubus laughed, and then, because he had no shame, plopped himself down cross-legged inside the circle. This did nothing to conceal his-- his _parts_ , Felix thought furiously as he tried not to see any of it from his peripheral vision.

"Yeah, I find it saves on time," the incubus said.

Of course it did. Maybe this really was something Felix should have known. It wasn't like he was ignorant about the kind of things people usually summoned incubi for.

Felix smothered down the unjustified panic bubbling in his chest. It wasn't like the incubus had anything he hadn't seen before. Slowly but deliberately, Felix looked at the incubus. He had red hair, artfully tousled, and a jawline that must have felt perfect to slide a hand against. Felix very carefully did not look any lower than that. But it was impossible, even while maintaining aggressively platonic eye contact, not to notice the broadness of the incubus' shoulders, or that he was taller than Felix even sitting down.

That... that was fine. Tall was good. His ex had been tall. And broad. And--

Felix swallowed; his mouth was unusually dry.

"First time?" the incubus asked, eyes half-lidded, lips parted in a smile that was in all appearance gentle, but still sent apprehension skittering down Felix's back.

"Yes," Felix replied, before realizing he didn't know what question he was answering. "I mean--first time summoning. An incubus. Not the first time I-- not for-- other things. Which isn't why I summoned you anyway." Felix scowled, feeling like he had been tricked into embarrassing himself. "You're not here for that!" he snapped, even as heat rose to his face.

The incubus held his hands out in appeasement, but his smile broadened.

"Hey, it's alright, take your time," the incubus said. "No need to be nervous. We're going to do whatever you want."

Yes, they were. Those were the terms of the summoning, and the call wouldn't have been answered if the terms weren't agreeable. 

"I just..." Felix scowled, accidentally looked down as he tried to think, and then his eyes shot back up to the ceiling. "What's your name?" he asked.

"You want to know what name you'll be screaming, huh?" the incubus asked with a chuckle. If it was flirtation, it sounded too much like a threat to do anything but keep Felix's guard up. "It's Sylvain. Can I have yours?"

"Felix," he replied. "And knock it off, I didn't call you for sex."

"Pity," Sylvain said with an exaggerated sigh as he looked Felix up and down.

Felix knew this was all part of the act. There wasn't anything terribly impressive about being the pathetic summoner calling up an incubus in the middle of the night, and Felix knew how little charm he possessed even when he wasn't wearing sweatpants and a ratty T-shirt. But there was still something about that heated gaze crawling across his skin that had Felix squirming, unsure if it was discomfort or... something else.

"I just need sleep," Felix said. 

"Oh, I can do that," Sylvain said, and grinned from ear to ear. "By the time I'm through, you'll be sleeping like a log, I guarantee--"

Felix interrupted Sylvain with an explosive sigh.

"No, shut up," Felix said. "The only thing I need--the _only thing_ ," he emphasized, "is someone to hold me until I fall asleep, and then never mention this ever again." 

Of course, now that he was saying this out loud, to another person, the sheer absurdity of the situation was beginning to collapse in on him. What had seemed like a straightforward, obvious solution in the midnight dimness of his empty bedroom, when all the idea had to bounce against were the walls of his own skull, now felt like a humiliating confession of his own vulnerability in the harsh light of an economy light bulb.

Felix pressed his lips together as embarrassment flooded through him acid-hot and made sweat break out down his back.

"The boyfriend experience, huh?" Sylvain asked.

"What?" Felix flinched, feeling exposed, despite being the only one in the room actually dressed.

Sylvain stretched, lifting his arms up and lacing his fingers behind his head, and the languid motion brought yet more attention to his sculpted physique.

"You're not the first person to ever call me up just for a cuddle," the incubus shared with a smirk. "It's also not what people _usually_ call me up for, but hey... you meet a lot of lonely people in this line of work, believe me. At least you didn't call me just to talk." Then Sylvain paused, giving Felix a sidelong look. "Did you?"

"No!" Felix burst out. He was starting to feel angry, if only because that was a more familiar emotion that he knew how to cope with. At least he could pretend his face was red out of rage.

Sylvain smirked.

"Figured. You didn't seem like a talker, anyway," he said. "So, where do you want me?"

"Uh..."

"I'd invite you into my circle, but," Sylvain gestured around him, "kind of short on real estate here." With his legs crossed, his knees came up right against the circle's limits. There was barely enough room for Sylvain in there, much less a second person.

"I know that!" Felix said, scowling. "Wait here."

He scrambled to his feet and went into the bedroom. Turning on the light made the bedroom seem more welcoming than it had before Felix set off to do this, and it gave him pause for a second, wondering why this had seemed such a good idea in the first place.

Regardless, he went to the wardrobe, and searched the recesses of a drawer. He found the burgundy dressing gown: technically belonging to his ex, though worn so few times that it was no surprise it had been forgotten behind. It had been an impulse buy, and though fitting with Ferdinand's-- with _his ex's_ overall style, the silky fabric and stylish cut of the garment felt too dressy to wear around the house, and inappropriate to wear anywhere else. This was likely the first proper use it would see in years, mostly because it was of a size that would fit the incubus better than any of Felix's clothing.

He returned to the living room to the curious, golden gaze of the incubus, craning his neck to watch Felix's approach. There was something that felt entirely too sticky about Sylvain's attention, and, flustered as Felix felt by it, he flung the dressing gown right into Sylvain's face.

The incubus laughed, not taking it personally.

"Wow, we're at the gift-giving stage already, huh? You move fast," Sylvain said, slipping his arms into the sleeves and humming appreciatively.

"Shut up," Felix replied. "Just get dressed and keep that on."

"Alright, alright," Sylvain laughed, and rose to his feet for the first time.

This definitely made it obvious how much taller he was than Felix, and for the first time, Felix felt heated out of something other than embarrassment. Sylvain could pass for a regular human, if he knew how to keep this form so it didn't slip, but even so, he was tall and broad and muscled in a way that seemed specifically aimed at drawing attention to his physicality. 

The dark red of the dressing gown clashed with the bright red of Sylvain's hair, but otherwise it seemed a good fit. It fell down to Sylvain's mid-thighs, and though he had tied it closed, this still left the deep V of the neckline to expose a long swath of his chest. 

Finished with dressing, Sylvain put his hands in the pockets of the dressing gown and rolled back and forth on the balls of his feet.

"Soooo, do I pass inspection, or are we standing here for the rest of the night?" Sylvain asked, with a smile he probably thought was charming.

"Shut up," Felix said reflexively. Then he stepped forward, and rubbed at the chalk circle with the bare sole of his foot, breaking up the line and releasing the enchantment that kept Sylvain inside.

Sylvain's eyes lit up hungrily as he found himself loose, and Felix almost feared the incubus would--make a move, or try to grab for him. He held his ground regardless, and even stiffened his back as Sylvain sauntered forward and stopped in front of Felix, their bodies separated by a palm's breadth. He looked down at Felix with a cat-that-ate-the-canary look on his face, and Felix would have found it merely annoying if he wasn't feeling so much like a canary already.

But Sylvain didn't touch, only looked, and in the ambient chill of the apartment, the heat coming off the incubus seemed almost welcoming to Felix, drawing him in. It would feel good, it seemed to say to him. It would feel nice to have Sylvain wrapped around him, it would--

"Bedroom," Felix said brusquely, but he turned away in the opposite direction, to turn off all the lights and power down his laptop.

Sylvain, almost suspiciously obedient, went quietly to the bedroom, and when Felix caught up, the incubus was remaking the bed, tucking in the corners of the sheets, fluffing the pillows.

Felix stood at the entrance, one hand gripping the doorframe like a lifeline as he watched Sylvain untangle the covers and spread them out over the bed. There was something entrancingly domestic in seeing the incubus set about this task, with a tiny frown of concentration on his face as he smoothed out the covers and made the bed perfectly. 

But when he looked at Felix again, the same flirty smile returned to Sylvain's face, and the stark insincerity of it compared to his expression a moment before jarred Felix out of his contemplation. Having finished making the bed, Sylvain now peeled back a corner of the covers, inviting Felix to slide under them. 

Felix felt himself shuddering, though he wasn't sure why. He didn't know how Sylvain could make that shitty IKEA bed seem so much more comfortable than Felix knew it really was, but at how tired he felt, he could sleep just as well on a stack of tires. He turned off the light and shuffled towards the bed in the dark, finding the edge of it with his knees and climbing in without a word.

He pulled the covers up to his chin, and in the silence of the bedroom, he still did not even hear Sylvain move until the mattress dipped under his weight. Felix let out a breath he did not even know he had been holding, unsure of what he had been fearing--that he would be getting what he asked for, or that he wouldn't?

But Sylvain took to his task with utmost care, moving inexorably closer to Felix: first the bounce of the mattress, then the slide of a hand across Felix's torso, then the dizzying heat of a body. Felix felt himself pulled into Sylvain's personal space like a hapless swimmer being dragged under by a whirlpool, but he didn't fight him. When Felix thought he felt the full length of Sylvain pressed along his back, still it seemed Sylvain found ways of moving closer, pulling Felix tighter into his embrace. He seemed to find ever new gaps between their bodies to fill with his presence, until Felix felt subsumed by Sylvain: held close and pressed into the mattress, every limb pinned in place.

Felix shuddered again, this time relieved, and where Sylvain's face nuzzled into Felix's hair, he felt the huff of a soundless chuckle.

"Good?" Sylvain asked.

Felix tested Sylvain's hold, pushing against the grip of Sylvain's arm curled around him and pinning Felix's own arm to his chest, or the heavy weight of Sylvain's leg, wrapped around his lower body. For anyone else, this might have felt too smothering, maybe uncomfortable. But Felix liked the weight. He liked the feeling of something pressing down on him hard, squeezing out every other sensation. It wasn't even something familiar to him, because his ex had been close to Sylvain's size, but much too mindful of it to use it in this way, for fear of crushing Felix.

But Felix was not fragile.

"Good," he replied, begrudgingly approving. If he thought about it for too long, he would grow embarrassed again. And he didn't want to know how Sylvain had read this need in him so easily.

For now, Felix just needed sleep. He closed his eyes, and did not think of a different pair of golden eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if I'm continuing this, but I just wrote it because sometimes, you just want someone to lie on you. Just like, park their whole weight on you. Or just channel those feelings into fic-writing, idk.
> 
> Title comes from 'Villainous Thing' by Shayfer James.


End file.
